Stop Thief

Tomorrow will be here

any moment.

Tiptoeing

inchwise

into your life

A thief,

murderous

in the night.

Intent on nothing more

than the perishables

The fruit in the bowl

the paint on the 
walls,

the beds,

and the hearts

that lie sleeping within.

It's been a busy week for poetry, lovely meet-ups in places with lots of books, and many wonderful poets, you know who you are - and quite a few of you can be found here at the wonderful Tuesday Poem blog.  So of course, I've spent all night scrounging through all my work, and decided it needs, well more work - but I did find this little piece which is - I don't know what it is, but it's not completely terrible, at least I hope not.  Enjoy your week, people.  

A.J. Ponder's work is available through Rona Gallery, Amazon, and good Wellington bookstores

It's New Zealand Poetry Day! But I'm not celebrating until Sunday.

It's New Zealand Poetry day and so quite a few of the New Zealand Poets have blogged on the Tuesday Poem blog , also Booksellers has got a great site for poetry events - there's all sorts of things going on, it's amazing, Beattie's site mentions an Auckland event, almost everyone seems to have joined in on the fun.  Of course I'm laying low today, no poetry on my mind at all except for the Rona Gallery Writers on Sunday Event, this Sunday because it is with the wonderful Jo Thorpe and some of our wonderful Wellington and Eastbourne, poets, authors and writers. See the event here 
at Eventfinder - which also has a number of other Poetry events over the country, both today and over the weekend - so enjoy the day everybody with a song in your heart and a poem in your head. also I found this great tongue in cheek blog, really bad poetry with critiques and rating systems for poems where F is run of the mill bad and A+ is terrifyingly bad - I'm sure if I look hard enough I can find at least some B-'s amongst my slush!  Maybe some A+'s ... 



Yes, there was a poem here, but it was in construction and now has been taken down.  Cheers.

A.J. Ponder's work is available through Rona Gallery, Amazon, and good Wellington bookstores

The Whatever's Wife

Somebody's wife
lived within a shadow of meaning

because as everybody knows

a woman's profession

is subsumed by

that of her husband.

His wife smiled as she wrapped on

the apron

the chains to the oven

and kicked off her shoes

So she could best enjoy

the shade

with a book.

No, wife!

Cried the author.

Don't sit down

the book you clasp,

its pages ragged,

it is not meant to be opened on the beach

those umbrella words

are meant to remind you

there's a place

for women such as you

in the shelter of the kitchen

and in the low-beamed workforce

caring,

minding,

working,

and wrapped in

someone else's

identity.

A.J. Ponder

I wrote this back in the beginning of the year - when it seemed every book came out as "The (insert male dominated profession here)'s Wife."  It seemed to be that these apparently worthy books were perhaps inadvertently sending us all a message with their titles, that a woman can only be seen reflected in her man.  Is it any surprise that in such circumstances women are paid less, it is pocket money after all, and any mention of dependants certainly doesn't illicit more money - just the opposite, less money, less prospects, and for solo mothers a battle between putting food on the table and being able to spend any time with their children. 


Young girls are told they can have it all, but they are never told that having it all equates to the work, not the money.  And before you say - that's sexist, guys get a rubbish deal too, I agree, but it's a different rubbish deal, and I would suggest that being the husband of an equitably paid wife, or a boy whose mother can afford to put food on the table is unlikely to make the situation worse.


Personally I'm looking forward to a new run of titles "The stewardess' husband," "The Prime-Minister's Husband" etc. etc.

A.J. Ponder's work is available through Rona Gallery, Amazon, and good Wellington bookstores

Lullaby for Zombies I

Lullaby for Zombies I
Rock ye

Sleep thee

Lay ye down

And close thine heart

Close thy mind 
so torn apart

Rock ye

Sleep thee

Dreams of death

Bring softest sighs

Rock ye

Sleep thee

Lullabyes

Rock ye

Sleep thee

The earth

will never keep ye
The sky will 

never slake thee

Rock ye

Sleep thee

Lullabye

A.J. Ponder

Yet another Zombie lullaby -
As if we can ever have enough lullabies for Zombies?  I know I certainly can't.  This one riffs on - but doesn't really follow Mary Poppin's "Stay Awake," and is actually the first one I wrote.  The others came later, fed by Brahms and the idea that every mythical creature should have its own lullabye.  Fairies I guess should be next!

(The picture is from the book "Pride Prejudice and Zombies" by Jane Austin and Seth Graeme-Smith. And in the interests of copyright fairness I should say it was alot of fun - mostly because I hated the characters and the idea that they might be turned into zombies or killed at any moment made them almost sufferable :)

A.J. Ponder's work is available through Rona Gallery, Amazon, and good Wellington bookstores...

For more Zombies, I have also written Lullaby Little Zombie, to Brahms and the short and sweet, Zombie's Lament. 

Someone is telling you something, but who can you trust in Wonderland?

I measured out my poison

And baked a loaf of bread

I sat it on the windowsill -

But I didn't eat it.

I spooned brown sugar

And I broke the loaf of bread

Then I took a cup of poison -

But I didn't drink it

I boiled my cup of poison

Eggs made it fine and silky smooth

Added sugar and broken bread -

And then I froze it

So now I have my poison

Set at minus ten degrees

Grab yourself a spoon

Have a helping if you please.

But don't say I never told you

My words are clear as day

- Eat me - Drink me -

In curiously large letters.

A.J. Ponder
Pictures by, Sir John Tenniel,1865 for 1890 Nursery Version.


It's kind of a shame - I really wanted a picture of little red hen in there - but the only ones I could find either weren't red, or looked far too recent to be out of copyright.  Apologies for not posting earlier, was too sick to post last night and all because I couldn't resist a bit of cream.  In my defence I had been able to eat it until recently.  Damn my severe allergies :/  By the way, I'd love to hold you by the hand and weave you through the truly improbable bits of this poem, but that would be too unbelievable is somewhat of an understatement, and so I leave you only with this most curious of warnings and the image of little red hen, baking.

A.J. Ponder's work is available through Rona Gallery, Amazon, and good Wellington bookstores